Laughter At It's Greatest
by Raggazzed12
Summary: Fred Weasley the Second has always feared his namesake's legacy, often feeling like a different person rather than himself ever since he found out that he was named after his father's dead twin. Written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction LL Finals as the Hufflepuff Seeker.


**A/N: Here goes, my final story for the Quidditch Leauge LL Fanfiction Competition as a Hufflepuff seeker! Hurray!**

 **My next-gen character that I chose was: Fred Weasley the Second.**

 **Here it goes!**

Fred whirled down the staircase to find his dad on the couch with some photo in his hands. Freddie, as everyone called the boy, wasn't interested in his family's history no matter how many times people told him he should be. He remembered when he had been told that he was named after his father's dead twin. It had felt like he was in another person's skin. Instead, he often just stuck to jokes. He had inherited his father's sense of humor and the two of them practically made up for the fact that Fred the first was gone, and not just in jokes. Freddie had the same red hair of every Weasley aside from the fact that he had inherited his mother's blue eyes, which did clash a tiny bit with his hair, making him slightly more noticeable than the average red-head. At least he wasn't going to school yet.

His mother was okay with the fact that both her boys acted like small children at times and she loved any of their jokes, and would stand any prank. Freddie figured it was good for his mother to be there for his father, who had to run the joke business all on his own, but the one promise the laughing man would make to Freddie was that "This all will be yours one day." as if he couldn't wait for retirement or something. It brought back painful memories, or so Freddie figured, of Fred the first.

Fred the first was the nickname Freddie had given his namesake so he could keep in track who he was talking about. Stories of his namesake were told a lot, and his father would laugh, cry, and spaced out all at the same time as telling any story of him. His mother had never met Fred the first but George, as Freddie sometimes called his father, would often tell her that she would have loved his brother any old way. She would reply with her beautiful laugh and would only stroke Freddie's hair as his dad told the story.

So now, as Freddie came down the staircase, he noticed how quiet his dad was being. This only happened every once in a while, and up until this time, while Freddie was 10, he would often be told to leave the room as quickly and quietly as possible, but because now his mother seemed more relaxed about these moods, he was allowed to stay down with his father, even comfort him with his presence. He ran to the side of the couch and plopped down next to his dad, then stared at the picture his father was holding.

It was his father and Fred the first, but with them also was Uncle Percy, Uncle Ron, Aunt Ginny, Uncle Charlie, and Uncle Bill. All of the previous Weasley family aside from his grandparents stood smiling and waving at him. Freddie wanted almost to wave back, he hadn't seen any of them since Christmas, and it felt like a long time, since it was March now. Maybe it was a short time, but Freddie loved his cousins. He turned to look at his father, who was... crying?

Even during stories it had never irked Freddie so much as right now that his father was crying. It made sense during stories, but over a picture? That was something Freddie couldn't wrap his mind around. Why would anyone in their right mind be crying over a picture? Especially one where everyone but one of those people were alive? Wouldn't he be happy he still had all those? It was then that his father noticed him, and looking over, he smiled through the tears.

"Hey Freddie. Come to look at the family?" he asked.

"Um... why are you crying, dad?" Freddie asked in reply, not sure how to answer.

"These were good times." was the simple, tear-filled reply.

Freddie remained silent, not at all sure how to say anything after this. Sure, it was hard, he could understand because it was his father's lost twin, but other than that, there didn't seem to be any good reason to cry over the good times. They were good times, for pity's sake. It wasn't like now wasn't good times. But Freddie did know what his father meant. Good times back when Fred the first was alive. Times when jokes were plentiful, and his father could make any joke with someone following up on it.

"Dad?" Freddie said slowly.

"Yes, Freddie?" his father replied, gazing at him softly.

"I know you want me to help you out with the business. I want to."

"Well before you do, you're going to want to go to school, business boy." Freddie received a "hair fluffing" as he called it while his dad ruffled his hair.

"Hogwarts?!" Freddie gasped slightly.

"Of course, silly. Where else would I and your mother send you? We both went there, so of course, so are you!"

The laughter coming from his father was nice. He had stopped crying and Freddie watched as his face turned from glum to beaming in seconds. That was the miraculous thing about his father: his mood could always change at the last second. Freddie wished he could do that. But he was glad he could go to Hogwarts, and he started giggling along with his father who was beginning to tickle him, which was such a torturous thing but both of them loved to torture each other with it.

"Breakfast!" called his mother from the kitchen. Freddie could already smell the pancakes on the oven, and looked at his dad.

"Last one there doesn't get any pancakes!" his father shouted and the both of them ran as hard as they could the short distance to the kitchen.

Freddie was glad he could be with his father. He realized then that his namesake was the same thing to his father as he was acting at the moment, a help, and a big one, one that meant a lot to both of them. Secretly in his head, he thanked Fred the first for helping his father along the hard road from wherever he was now. For a moment, he thought he heard a laughing voice that sounded like his father's answer _"You're very welcome."_

 **A/N: Well I hope you liked it, I apologize if it seemed rushed, even though I didn't get the Snitch, I still wanted to get it in as fast as I could so... here it is. Thank you for reading and please, review, review, review!**


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